"No." The figure’s response was calm, without defensiveness. "Like I said before, I’m only here to give you a choice. Nothing more, nothing less."
Damian’s hands clenched weakly.
"Why do you care?"
His voice was barely audible.
"A being like you... why do you even care about giving someone like me a choice? What does it matter to you whether I choose to stay or leave?"
The figure was quiet for a moment, as if considering how to answer.
"You might think of it as me being cruel to you. And maybe I am, in a way."
The doubled voice carried complex emotions.
"But I’m the one who knows what awaits you after this, not you."
Snow settled on both their shoulders.
"As for my reason..."
The figure paused.
"Let’s just say that a very long time ago, I was in a similar situation to yours."
The swirling darkness seemed to slow, becoming less agitated.
"No one really gave me a choice. Everything was decided for me, set in motion before I even understood what was truly happening."
There was genuine emotion in those words, buried beneath the distortion.
"And I’ve always wondered... if someone had given me a choice before everything started, what would I have chosen?" The voice paused. "Would it have changed anything? Or would I have walked the same path anyway?"
The figure turned slightly, as if looking at Damian’s profile.
"And knowing that it was my own choice that led me to what happened afterwards... I think it would have made things far easier to accept."
Damian turned slowly to look at the figure.
The words spoken settled into his mind, heavy with implications he couldn’t quite grasp yet.
’But if it really was a similar situation, then–’
"What happened afterwards?"
The question came out as barely a whisper.
The figure remained silent for a long time, just staring at Damian through the darkness.
Then it spoke.
"There was something that the Beggar told you once, when you asked him if Elizabeth was the one who saved humanity." The doubled voice came quiet. "Do you remember it?"
Damian tried to think back, but his mind was too exhausted to think properly.
His face must have shown the struggle because the figure continued without waiting.
"The person who wants to save the world rarely possesses the strength to save themselves."
Deathly silence spread around them as those words settled into Damian’s mind.
’I... remember now.’
The memory of this conversation had awakened in his mind just before the attack on Elizabeth had happened.
’But for this... being to quote this, does it mean–’
Before he could think further–
"There are millions of possible timelines after you make your decision today." The figure’s voice cut through his thoughts, changing the subject completely. "Countless futures branching from this single moment, each one different based on what you choose."
Damian didn’t know why the figure suddenly decided to talk about the choices, but he listened intently.
"And among all of them, across every possible variation of events that could unfold..."
The figure paused.
"Only when you chose to go back, only when you accepted my offer and returned to your past life, did you truly find peace."
The words hit Damian like a physical blow.
"What about..."
His voice came out rough, barely audible.
"What about the timelines when I chose to become his piece?"
He swallowed hard, throat raw.
"When I stayed and fought?"
The figure was quiet for a long moment.
"In a few of them, you did manage to save the world."
Those words should have brought hope, should have made the choice clearer.
"But?"
The question fell from Damian’s lips softly, catching something dark in the figure’s tone.
The figure turned to look at him fully.
"But there exists no timeline, not a single one among all the millions of possibilities..." The voice dropped lower. "Where you managed to save the person who loved you the most."
Silence crashed down around them like a wave.
Damian’s heart stuttered in his chest, his mind jumping to the obvious answer.
"L-Luna?"
Her name came out broken, barely formed.
The figure nodded slowly.
"Why?"
Damian’s voice cracked completely.
"Why her specifically? Why not... Why couldn’t I save her?"
The figure stood up, black energy swirling around its form as it looked down at Damian.
"Because in every possible timeline where you walked the path the Beggar laid out for you..."
The voice carried terrible certainty.
"Standing between you and death... was Luna."
Damian felt something crack inside his chest.
"There are timelines where you face enemies beyond comprehension, where the Demon Rulers themselves hunt you down for interfering with their plans."
The figure’s voice continued relentlessly.
"There are timelines where the Divine Rulers decide you’re too dangerous to live, where they descend from their thrones to erase you from existence."
Snow fell between them.
"There are timelines where Fate itself turns against you, where reality bends to crush the anomaly you represent."
The figure’s hand clenched.
"And in every single one of those futures, without fail, without exception..."
The words came out heavy.
"Luna threw herself between you and whatever was trying to kill you."
Damian couldn’t breathe.
"There are timelines in which every single loved one you have abandons you eventually." The figure’s voice dropped lower. "Futures where the choices you’re forced to make drive them away one by one, where even your parents are forced to turn their backs on you because of what you become."
Thump thump thump thump
Damian listened, his heart hammering against his ribs.
The darkness swirled faster now.
"But there’s not a single timeline where Luna left you alone."
The words hung in the frozen air.
"Even when you gave her every reason to hate you, even when loving you meant certain death, even when staying by your side guaranteed she would never see another sunrise..."
The figure’s voice carried something that might have been sorrow.
"She never walked away."
Silence spread around them, absolute and crushing.
Damian sat there frozen, as the weight of those words crushed down on him.
’Luna–’
Standing between him and death in every timeline where he chose to fight.
Dying for him over and over and over again across countless possible futures.
Never abandoning him, never leaving him alone and never choosing her own life over his.
’–Just why? Why does she love me so much?’
He never understood it, but after some time, something shifted in him
The despair that has been eating at him transformed into something else, something colder and harder.
Damian stood up slowly, his hands moved to his hair, gathering the crimson strands and tying them behind his head.
"So no matter what I choose..."
His voice came out calm now, eerily controlled.
"Luna dies?"
The figure didn’t reply, but the silence itself was confirmation.
Damian’s hands dropped back to his sides.
"Is there really no other choice?"
The question came out quiet, but carrying an edge that hadn’t been there before.
"No other option where everyone I love gets to live? Where Luna... doesn’t die?"
The figure remained still for a long moment, that black energy continuing its endless swirling.
Then it spoke.
"There is one more choice."
Those words made Damian’s eyes snap up.
"What is it?"
His voice was sharp now, grasping at this new possibility like a drowning man reaching for a rope.
The figure turned to face him fully.
"In the game of chess, no matter what piece you become, no matter how powerful or how important..."
The doubled voice was steady and measured.
"Your fate depends entirely on what moves the players make. You can be the queen, the most powerful piece on the board, and still be sacrificed if that’s what the player decides."
Damian listened, his mind trying to follow where this was going.
"And no matter what happens at the end of the game, no matter how the pieces move or fall..."
The figure paused.
"The winner is always one of the players... The pieces never win. They serve their purpose and are discarded, whether the game ends in victory or defeat."
The words settled into Damian’s chest, cold and undeniable.
"So if you want to win, if you truly want the outcome to be in your favor instead of being moved around by forces beyond your control..."
The figure’s voice carried a strange intensity now.
"The only choice left is to stop being a piece and become a player yourself."
Those words settled over Damian like a revelation.
"Become a player?"
His voice came out uncertain.
"How? I don’t even understand the game that’s being played. I don’t know their goals or moves, or when they’ll make them..."
He spread his hands.
"I’m completely in the dark here, reacting to things I don’t comprehend."
"Do you truly need to understand their goals?"
The figure’s question cut through his uncertainty.
"The Hooded One, the Beggar, Fate itself, the Demon Rulers, the Divine Rulers... All of them are fighting for the future they want. Each one has their own vision, their own plan and their own desired outcome."
The voice became almost gentle.
"And to become a player yourself, all you need to do is decide the future YOU want and do everything in your power to create it."
The figure stepped closer.
"You don’t need to understand their games... You need to start your own."
A pause that felt loaded with significance.
"So tell me, Damian..."
The question hung in the air between them.
"What is it that you want?"
Silence fell around them completely.
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